The Chipped Glass
by hoenheim-of-light51
Summary: A Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfic


**The Chipped Glass**

**A Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfic**

A quiet voice filtered through his daze, "Brother? Brother wake up!" Edward slowly opened his eyes, his sight hazy with fatigue and fever. The voice sounded again, "I see you're awake." The slightly blurry form of his younger brother left his bedside to make its way to a small table by the door.

Gradually he mustered up enough strength to speak, "Hey Al," he said, his voice raspy. "What do you want?" The haze disappeared from his vision and the room and its occupant came into focus.

Al chuckled quietly to himself, "I don't _want_ anything but you _need_ something." A small syringe glinted in the light as he turned to face Ed.

Sweat beads began appearing on his whitening face, "Y-you keep that thing away from me!" he cried hoarsely. "I don't need it! I'm just fine! Never felt better in my life!" He attempted to sit himself up on his arms but he crumpled back onto the bed.

Quite enjoying himself, Al began to make his way towards his squirming brother, "Granny Pinako gave me this medicine. She said it'll help you get better, but only if you take it!" he winked.

Each step thundered ominously in Ed's ears; the needle glinted threateningly before him, coming nearer and nearer with each passing second. "Aaaalll!" he groaned, while the fever and terror induced sweat surged from his pores.

"What happened to my brave older brother?" Al smirked as he took the final steps, and then stopped by his brother's side.

Ed pouted but couldn't think of a response. So with a heavy sigh and a rapid pulse, he slowly and sadly raised his right arm. He turned away from the sight and squinted his eyes hard. Cool liquid was dabbed on his forearm and he knew what would come next. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he felt the needle pierce his skin, felt the pressure of the plunger pushing the contents of the vile into his body.

After what seemed like hours to Edward, Alphonse pulled the needle out of Ed's arm. The small drop of blood escaping from the tiny wound was quickly soaked up by a small cotton ball. Al placed a band-aid on the little spot and smiled down at his work. "Finished Ed," he said, placing the needle in a bag. "That wasn't so bad now was it?" He set the bag into the trash can.

Ed placed his hand on the wound and winced as it stung beneath his fingers. He laid his head back on the pillow and instantly his eyes began to close.

Thunder rumbled softly in the darkening sky, Al pulled up a chair and sat quietly by the bed.

Through the darkness enveloping his vision and the drowsiness clouding his mind Ed spoke to his brother beside him, "Something the matter?"

Al hesitated, "Remember…when you or me got sick mom would…mom would…"

Ed finished the sentence for him, "She'd stay with us all day and night until we got better."

Al looked down sadly, "Once, she caught what we had and we had to miss Winry's birthday party to stay home and take care of her."

"Yeah…Winry brought us each a piece of cake. Mom didn't eat hers…she left it for us"

"She was always thinking of us…"

Silence filled the room and Ed shivered…not just from fever chills. He lay there deep in thought, fighting sleep. Alas, he lost the battle and his eyes began to close. He heard his brother's voice whisper him a shaky goodnight as he fell into a fitful sleep.

Images flashed through Ed's slumber. His mother stood before him, arms spread. Her body shone with an otherworldly light. Eyes wide he ran toward her, his legs like lead. The light started to fade, "M-mom? No wait! Come back!" his mother began to disappear before him and his vision blurred with tears. Just as the last shred of light was diminished, a loud boom echoed through the darkness.

Ed's eyes shot open and he sat up in bed. His body felt heavy, his mind in a stupor. Sweat flowed from his quivering body; chills ran up and down his spine. His breathing came in short, quick gasps.

A faraway voice reached his throbbing head, "Edward…"

He held his breath and listened carefully.

"Edward…"

The voice spoke once more and Ed finally grasped its owner. "Mom?" he whispered.

"Eeeedwarrrrd…"

He staggered out of bed and his legs trembled, "Where are you?"

The voice called again

Through his pain and fever he walked towards the door and silently stepped out of the room. It called once more, quieter this time, from the direction of their front door. Edward threw open the door and looked out into the inky black night. A chilling wind and icy rain slammed into his bare chest; he took a step back.

The voice was almost inaudible as he stood between the border of his gentle home and the harsh outdoors. He ran out the door, ran towards the voice, ran towards his mother. He barely heard the door close behind him

Thunder boomed and wind roared around him, the rain beat his exhausted body and numbed his limbs. Lightning flashed, illuminating the eyes of a nearby fox. He turned and stared at the ghostly green pupils, but didn't stop. For he feared if he paused, even for a moment, he wouldn't be able to start again. Through it all he heard the voice of his mom quietly calling out his name. He answered with his own, "I'm coming," he said, his eyes glazed with agony and desperation. "I'm coming…I'm coming…I'm coming."

His chest ached, his head pounded, his muscles screamed their protest. But the sound of his mother's voice drove him onward. Half mad with sickness and desire, he ran through the dirt roads of Risembool until he arrived at the city limit. He ran beyond the boundary into an area unfamiliar in dark or in light. Finally he felt his body begin to give into the stress of dragging a weak, fever stricken, 9-year-old boy through the cold and dreary November night.

"No!" he said aloud. "I'm almost there, I know it! I've gotta be!" his pace slowed drastically; the world around him began to fade into darkness. A flag draped on a building was the last thing he saw before his body gave way. The flag bore the symbol of the state military.

Inside the outpost two men sat by a crackling fire. They faced each other on opposite sides of the hearth, each clad in military dress. A small chain on Roy's belt twinkled softly in the firelight. The watch it held lay nestled in his pocket.

Roy yawned, too tired to chastise his friend any longer, "Hughes, we've been looking at those pictures for hours now. Give it a rest!"

Hughes grinned broadly and winked at his old friend, "Aw c'mon Roy, no need to be jealous of me and my _wonderful_ girlfriend." he waved the picture of her in front of Roy's face. The square glasses he wore slid down his nose.

Roy put his thumb and middle finger together, preparing to snap. He moved his fingers slightly and the transmutation circle on the back of his glove glowed for a split second and a bright orange spark flew from his fingertips but diminished only a few inches away from its source.

Suddenly wary, Hughes pulled the picture away, "Alright, alright," he adjusted his glasses and slipped the picture out of sight. "Killjoy," he muttered.

Sighing in frustration he laid his head back and closed his eyes, "I wonder why the General placed us here in the middle of nowhere. We've been here a week and still no word from Central."

"I know. I haven't seen my sweet Gracia in so long! Oh what I wouldn't give to get out of this smelly post and-"

"That's not what I meant!" Roy shouted

Hughes laughed at his friend's outburst but quickly composed himself, "It hasn't been very long since the war ended. Maybe he thought you needed a little time away from it all."

Roy looked at the fire. In its core he saw the forms of countless people, their eyes as red as the blood flowing out of the gashes covering their bodies, eyes filled with terror as a blinding red light engulfs them, eyes filled with hatred as they stare at the State Alchemist in the center of the destruction…as they stare at _him_.

"Get away from it all…" Roy said through gritted teeth. "So a post far from Central is supposed to get me away? They don't know what the hell they're saying! They didn't see what we saw, didn't do what we did. You can never get away from something like that. "

A pensive silence descended upon the soldiers. Wind moaned outside the outpost. Rain slapped the sides and roof, echoing in the stillness within.

Darkness filled the room; the fire reduced to a smoldering ember. "Needs more wood," Hughes said.

Roy stared sarcastically into his friend's eyes.

Hughes understood immediately. "You do it, I got it last time."

"Get the wood. That's an order, _Major _Hughes"

"Yes sir Lieutenant Colonel Mustang!" he put his hand up in a mock salute. A blast of cold air signaled his exit.

Roy stared out the window, his face reflected in each drop of rain as it made its decent down the glass. His face morphed into the terrified visage of a doctor. Tears and blood ran down the visions face and formed a deep red puddle on the glass of a picture. He sighed morosely and closed his eyes. The sounds around him faded and peaceful silence engulfed him.

The door flew open, bringing Roy back to harsh reality.

"Go get some wood, we gotta get this place warmed up!"

Groggy, he turned to face him "What did I just order you to do?" his eyes fell on the shuddering mass Hughes cradled in his arms. Roy sighed and stood up. His boots clunked softly with each step he took, "You brought in an animal. Why didn't you-"

"It's a kid Roy! I found him collapsed outside and he's half frozen!"

Roy frowned and placed his hand on the boy's forehead, "He's burning up. Put him in bed, now! I'll start a fire."

Hughes ran to his bed and placed the boy beneath the covers. A towel landed on his head, he took it and began to dry him off.

The fire hissed its greeting and the boy began to stop shaking.

"Is he doing any better?"

Hughes grunted as he stood up, "He's still pretty warm, but he'll be alright."

The two men of the military stood over the boy and watched him for a while, watched him toss and turn in his sleep. Most of all they watched his eyes. A small stream of tears flowed from them, creating dark specks on the white pillow beneath him.

He was dreaming.

She smiled warmly and looked at her son, "Edward honey, what's wrong?" Trisha stroked his head. "You should be in bed. You'll never get betterif you don't get some rest."

Ed looked up into her eyes. He opened his mouth but no sound was heard.

"Now Ed, you can't go outside until you're well again."

He found himself in his bed. The sun shone through the window casting friendly shadows about the room.

"Just try to get some rest, ok?" She kissed his warm forehead. "I'll be here if you need me. Don't worry, I'll be here…I'll be here…I'll be here"

The room and his mother faded into a white nothingness. Her words echoed infinitely as he sat, cold and alone, in the emptiness. "Mother!"

Ed's eyes snapped open. Before his eyes hung an unfamiliar ceiling. His mind couldn't recall how he'd gotten here but his muscles held the memory and throbbed in remembrance beneath the sheets.

Struggling with exhaustion he lifted his head up. On the wall to his left he saw the silhouettes of two chairs. A shadow emerged from within one. Ed laid his head back down and sighed. He searched his memory for the faintest clue as to his arrival. He remembered lying sick and weary in his bed while his brother wished him goodnight, remembered crying out for his mother inside the white oblivion and then waking up to find himself in a strange bed in a foreign place.

"So you're awake. You feeling ok?" a man looked down at him and smiled.

It's the shadow, he thought. All he could do was blink and nod.

The man placed a hand on Ed's forehead. "Good, your fever's gone down. That medicine we gave you must be working."

The color drained from Ed's face. He bolted up in bed, ignoring his aching back and swimming head. His eyes flashed to his right arm; there were two bandages on it. At least I was asleep for this one, he thought.

"So, you gotta name?"

Ed opened his mouth; his throat burned. His hand flew to his neck and he coughed.

"Here," said the man as he produced a small cup of water from behind him.

He gulped the water noisily; tiny rivers ran down his chin. A sigh of relief escaped from his mouth, "Thanks" his throat was cool but his voice was hoarse. "It's Edward"

The man grinned, "I'm Major Hughes," he thrust his thumb toward the chairs. "That's Lieutenant Colonel Mustang."

Ed turned his head to see another man glaring at him. Nice guy, he thought. He turned to the Major, "Where am I anyway?"

"Military outpost just outside of Risembool."

"What?!" the cup slipped out of his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Hughes snatched the cup out of the air. "What's wrong?"

How'd I get _outside _of Risembool, he looked down and frowned as he pondered to himself.

"Edward?"

Ed looked up at Hughes, "I-I'm fine. What's the military doing out here?

"Our job," an annoyed voice sounded beside him. "What about you?"

He turned and saw the stony face of the Lieutenant Colonel eyeing him suspiciously. Ed backed up and blinked, startled. "I-I don't know."

Mustang raised one eyebrow, "Where'd you come from?"

"My house…I guess."

"How'd you get here?"

A dull pain shot up his leg, "I think I walked."

"Where's your house?"

Ed smirked, feeling braver, "I don't really feel like telling you that Lieutenant Colonel"

Roy narrowed his eyes, "Do your parents know you're out here, kid?"

Ed looked at the ground; he studied the patterns in the wood, "Uh…well…" he blinked hard and turned his head back to face Mustang. "No they're…my dad left a long time ago and my mom is…" Ed sighed and felt liquid pooling in his eyes, "My mom's dead."

Hughes dropped the cup in his hands and it shattered at his feet.

The boy and the soldier stared at each other intently. Behind Roy's eyes, Edward glimpsed a sea; a sea of grief, a sea of guilt, a sea of wisdom.

Roy grinned and straightened himself up; he took out his watch and flipped it open, "It's late, we should probably get you home."

"Yeah…" Ed's voice trailed off.

Hughes grinned, "Your clothes should be dry by now."

"Huh?"

Roy walked to the fire and crouched to the floor. He stood a second later holding a pair of black pants by the leg.

"Wait a second, then what…?" Ed shifted his aching legs to the side of the bed. He removed the covers and saw a belt doubled around his waist; the belt held up a pair of long, blue, military style pants. The legs fell to the ground below him; he lifted his feet up and saw the outline of his toes appear at each knee.

"You were soaked Ed, we had to get those wet clothes off of you," the Major chuckled.

The pair of pants flew toward Ed and landed next to him on the bed, Ed said nothing as he started to ease himself down from the bed.

"Hold on Ed. I'll clean up this glass first."

"It's ok Hughes I'll get it," Ed shuffled through the slightly damp pockets of his pants and found the nearly dissolved piece of chalk he always kept with him. He slid off the bed and crouched by the place where the glass lay broken on the floor. His hands swept the ground carefully, gathering as many of the tiny shards as he could. When he had what he believed to be all the pieces of the cup in a neat pile in front of him, he began drawing a series of circles and triangles next to the mound.

Roy walked to the edge of the bed, intrigued.

Ed swept the pieces into the center of the circle next to it. He placed his hand on the outermost ring of the drawing. A bright yellow light shone throughout the cabin; the glass crystals glowed and began to form themselves back together. The light faded and the cup looked as if it had never been broken, save for a chip on the rim.

Ed looked up at the soldiers and grinned, "Is that alright? Sorry about the chip, guess I missed some pieces."

Roy's eyes widened.

Hughes laughed, "Well I'll be!" he picked up the cup; it sparkled softly in the glow of the flame. "So you're an alchemist."

Ed smiled and felt blush creep into his cheeks, "Just think of it as my thanks," he stood clumsily in his too long bottoms. Carefully he made his way to the chairs, grabbing his own pants along the way.

Mustang watched Ed shuffle his way to behind the chairs, dragging the long, blue legs across the floor behind him. He turned to Hughes, "Now I'll have to wash my uniform."

The Major chuckled.

Ed emerged from behind the chair, glad to be in a pair of pants that wasn't taller then he was.

"The car's out front," said Hughes.

Ed nodded. He threw the cerulean bottoms over the top of the chair beside him.

The three exited out into the cool night. The storm had ended and stars dotted the sky. Ed shivered in the cold but all feelings of sickness had left him completely. He breathed deeply the fresh air and saw his breath in front of him when he exhaled. The soldiers climbed into the front seat, Roy drove.

Ed took a seat in the back and felt sleepiness come over him again; he yawned.

"Which way kid?" Roy asked.

His head clear, he was able to recognize his location. Luckily, he thought, I must've walked right on the main road. He pointed straight in front of him, "Straight that way."

Roy nodded and placed his foot on the pedal and the car sprang to life, the seats vibrated beneath them.

The three sat in silence. Ed desperately wanted to sleep but he'd have to tell them which house was his. The fields and trees flew by beside them, shining silver in the moonlight; stars glittered against the pitch black sky.

The hill his house stood upon came up quickly. He called just as they reached the foot of it, "Just stop here. Cars can't get up the hill too easily."

Mustang pushed the brake and the car slowed to a stop.

No one spoke when Ed opened the door. He had already made it to the front of the car when Roy opened the window, "Hey Ed!"

Ed turned back, "Hm?"

"I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yeah…I'll see you." Ed turned and jogged slowly up the hill; he followed the narrow rut he'd formed through years of running up this path. He reached the top and turned to look at the horizon, the lights of the single vehicle glowed in the darkness. He followed them with his eyes until they faded into the dark.

Edward opened the door as quietly as he could and closed it soundlessly. He tiptoed through the house until he reached the open door of his room. His brother's unused bed sat beside his. "Must've gone to the couch, guess he didn't want to catch what I had," he whispered to himself. The sleepiness he'd acquired in the car caught up with him. Yawning he climbed into bed. The covers felt warm over his cold, bare, chest and feet.

Before he fell to sleep he stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. The face of Roy Mustang flashed behind his eyes. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about what'd he'd seen in the eyes of the mysterious soldier; torn by grief, tormented by guilt and yet filled with wisdom. Ed felt a wave of admiration wash over him. He shut his eyes and smiled as he slipped into a peaceful slumber.

The men stepped silently into the outpost. Roy went to the chair by the fire; Hughes went to a table near the beds. Roy heard a small shuffle as his dusty, blue, pants fell to the ground behind him.

For a while the house was silent except for the crackle of the fire and the clinking of glasses. Roy stared at the fire but saw no face staring at him with sorrow and hatred. He smiled, happy for the momentary peace.

"Here," a voice said beside him.

Roy looked up and saw Hughes looking down at him with a quiet smile on his face. He held a cup half-filled with an amber liquid out in front of him.

"Thanks," Roy muttered, taking the glass. "So, you were quite attached to that boy weren't you?"

Hughes grinned knowingly, "I could say the same for you," he sipped his drink. "Nice to find another alchemist, huh? Even if it is just a kid."

"I saw something Hughes, when I looked into his eyes."

Hughes was silent, a knowing smile still on his face. The fire popped, questioning.

Roy looked at the ocher liquid in his glass, his reflection distorted by the ripples on the surface, "Great sorrow…and even greater resolve."

Hughes looked at the fire. He wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.

Roy put the glass to his lips. He felt an abnormality in the normally smooth rim. One eyebrow raised, he held the cup in front of his eyes to examine it. Small streams of bubbles rose from the bottom of the cup; tiny flecks of foam stuck to the sides. At last his eyes fell on the fault. A smile spread across his face. The glass was chipped.


End file.
